


The Path Unseen

by raven_fair_slytherclaw



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Death Eater Hermione Granger, F/M, Gen, Gift Fic, Hermione taking what she wants for herself, Hermione's ancestry, I have no idea what tags to put, M/M, Morning Sex, Pregnant Sex, Spy Draco Malfoy, Spy Hermione Granger, familial curses, i choose who lives and dies, rough werewolf sex, secret pen pals, sex in front of a mirror, voyeur Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_fair_slytherclaw/pseuds/raven_fair_slytherclaw
Summary: The beginning of Hermione's fifth year takes an unexpected turn when she finds out one of her closest friends is one of her greatest adversaries. Secrets are revealed and Hermione finally straightens out her priorities as she embarks on a perilous journey to help save the people she loves most.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sandor Clegane/Brienne of Tarth, Severus Snape/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	The Path Unseen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meditationsinemergencies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/gifts).



> The prompt for this gift fic spawned madness and a desire to please my giftee by ticking all their boxes. I hope I've been able to deliver. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
> 
> This fic would not have been completed without the incomparable help from my beta adavison. Her input and feedback are what helped make this fic possible. Any mistakes afterward are entirely my own.
> 
> I do not own any of these characters, only the situations they find themselves in.

**1 September 1995**

**—H—**

A soft smile crossed her lips as she read her correspondence from her pen pal. She had first received his letter at the end of her first year, a bit of “fan mail” she had received from another first-year student from, surprisingly, America. Apparently, news of the events surrounding the Philosopher’s Stone had reached the wizarding community world-wide.

She had thought the whole thing ridiculous but responded anyway. She was beginning her fifth year now and Hermione considered him one of her closest friends, even though they’d never met. 

He was just so easy to talk to. He never judged her and offered advice when she needed it. She would always be grateful for the suggestion that she put the blond Slytherin git in his place the “American” way: a quick unsuspecting punch to the face. 

The memory of his reply and her subsequent punching of Malfoy still brought a small chuckle out of her. 

As she put away her most recent letter she looked up to see a faintly despondent Harry. She was worried about the effects of what happened at the end of last year, but knew his current mood was due to the fact that both her and Ron were made prefects. 

She was about to say something when their compartment door opened and the Head Boy stuck his head inside. 

“There you two are,” he said, looking to Hermione before grimacing at Ron as he tried to stuff an entire pumpkin pastie in his mouth. 

“We’ve still got a long trip to go,” he continued, “but the prefects are going to meet in the seventh car so the new ones, like yourselves, know what’s going on and what’s expected of you.”

“See you in a bit, Harry,” she murmured before going out to the hallway. As she waited for Ron she heard the Head Boy talking to Harry. 

“I never really got the chance to... you know. Say thank you. For everything.”

“It’s ok. Really.”

“No, it’s not. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. That’s a fact. So. Thank you, Harry.”

Harry sighed. “You’re welcome, Cedric.”

As Cedric closed the door, he ushered both of them towards the meeting. 

“So,” Ron said from behind her, “who are the new prefects from the other houses this year?”

“Let’s see... Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw... Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff... and Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin.”

As Ron started sputtering behind her, she couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped her lips. She felt herself blush as Cedric look over his shoulder at her and raised a curious brow. 

“We just... ah... don’t get along with the Slytherin prefects,” she stammered. 

He nodded and kept walking. “That is what this meeting is about. Working together with everyone, even when you don’t normally get along. We’re actually going to implement a new system this year, so everyone will be working with a partner... from a different house.”

“Oh,” was all she could think to say at the moment. Wish as she might, Hermione had a sinking feeling that she was going to get stuck with Draco Malfoy. Things were definitely going to get interesting this year. She just hoped she heard back quickly from her pen pal once she informed him of her new predicament. She’d read quite a few books he’d recommended on self defense and boxing and had been itching to try some techniques she’d read about.

*******

The meeting wasn’t as much of a disaster as it could’ve been. Surprisingly, the main animosity in the meeting came from Ron and Pansy. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that there was more going on, and tucked away that piece of information to ponder later. 

Cedric was ushering everyone out of the compartment when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she frowned at the person wanting her attention. 

Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, suspiciously not looking hostile. She was bewildered by the somewhat sheepish grin that crossed his lips before becoming serious again. 

“Granger,” he started before clearing his throat, “I would like to have a word with you, if I may?”

“Umm...”

“Not bloody likely you ferrety git,” Ron said from the doorway. 

Hermione couldn’t help the sigh of irritation that came from her. She didn’t want or need Ron’s misplaced chivalry, and she was quite curious as to what Draco Malfoy wanted to say. Before she could say anything, however, Malfoy surprised them both by his response. 

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought if you think Granger here can’t perfectly take care of herself, even against a ‘ferrety git’ like myself.”

Hermione felt her eyes go wide and her mouth drop open. _Did Draco Malfoy just give me a compliment?_

She saw Ron begin to go red in the face, but before he made any sound a hand came and rested on his shoulder from the hallway. 

Cedric Diggory peaked his head in. “I’m going to take Ron on some rounds so he has a better understanding of what his duties will be at the castle,” he said quickly glancing in her direction while guiding Ron out of the compartment. “I can only give you about five minutes Draco, before someone notices.”

“Thanks, Cedric.”

Once the door closed, Hermione looked back at Malfoy with suspicion. “So what did you have to offer him to let you have this impromptu meeting?” She said archly. 

Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he slumped into a chair. She couldn’t interpret the look he gave her, but it made her a bit concerned, something she _really_ didn’t want to feel towards him. 

“I know you don’t trust me and that you don’t even like me—“ she snorted at that, “but the only thing I had to do was ask Cedric for his help.”

“And why would he help you?”

“Because he’s a friend.”

“I didn’t think you actually had friends.”

A vicious part of Hermione was pleased with her response, but the look on Malfoy’s face made her feel guilty. He looked... well... like someone had died. She was unsure what to say and didn’t immediately react when Malfoy reached inside his robes and withdrew his wand. 

She eyed him warily as he looked down at his wand, spinning it in his hands. When he looked up again, the desperation in his face made her feel that whatever he was about to tell her would change everything. 

“I need you to listen to me and not interrupt as we don’t have much time,” he said, glancing at the door, “and I need you to _really_ listen. Please.”

  
**—D—**

Draco knew he had shocked her with his request. It was the 'please' that had stunned her into silence. His heart twisted in his chest as he waited for her to make up he mind. She’d either decide to listen or not, but he had to tell her the truth, all of it, if either one of them were going to make it out alive. 

He saw her spine straighten jaw clench. Determination shown in her eyes. Pure Gryffindor royalty. Shaking his head, he began a tale that was almost impossible to believe, but nevertheless true. He just prayed to Circe, Merlin, and whomever was willing to listen that she believed him. 

“On the train at the beginning of first year, I had excitedly searched almost the entire train for a person I’d grown up hearing stories about. Upon finding him, I’d thought adopting my father’s attitude and mannerisms would make this person instantly like me... how unbelievably fucking stupid I was.”

He continued with his story, watching her facial features as he focused on different events that happened throughout their first year and the correspondence he had with his father, only his father. He told Hermione that everything his father had told him of his beliefs seemed to be true until the end-of-year feast where a certain group of Gryffindors received a large number of unexpected house points winning them the house cup. 

“I’d been confused, honestly. All that rhetoric my father spoke about muggle-borns being unable to do real magic and there was this witch — annoyingly, brilliantly amazing at school who’d solved a complex puzzle to save not only her friends, but thwart an evil bastard from gaining power again. It made me think, made me question. I knew I couldn’t ask my father about it, his opinions were extremely clear. So I asked the only other person I could think of who’d honestly listen, my mother.”

A knock sounded on the door, startling both him and Hermione. “Draco!” Cedric hissed. “I can’t give you any more time. You have about 30 seconds before Parkinson’s due to come back this way.”

Draco stood and smoothed down his robes, tucking away his wand and headed towards the door. He’d just gotten hold of the door latch when Hermione asked him a question, one he had been praying for and dreading at the same time. He was not sure she’d like the answer. 

“Malfoy? What advice did your mother give you?”

He turned to look at her, sure she could see his heart pounding away in his chest. His mouth suddenly dry, he had to swallow a few times before he could answer. “She told me to write to this person... that before I condemn them based on someone else’s beliefs... it might be a good idea to actually get to know them first.”

He paused just long enough to see her pensive face clear in understanding before it settled on shock and disbelief. 

As he was walking towards the front car of the train, all Draco could do is hope that he had not just made a horrible mistake.

  
**2 September 1995**

**—H—**

Hermione sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall feeling bleary-eyed and irritable. Besides all the swirling questions she had running through her head about Draco Malfoy, the garishly pink toad covertly announcing that the Ministry “will be watching” and interfering had kept Hermione from a good night's sleep. 

She honestly thought she could have coped with all of yesterday’s revelations, but Ron had to go and make things a million times worse. He just didn’t understand the concept of boundaries or privacy. If she had wanted to talk to him about what she and Malfoy discussed, she would have bloody well talked about it. 

She bypassed her usual morning juice for a cup of strong black coffee. She usually only indulged at school if she needed to stay awake for studying, but after a restless night, she needed it just to function the rest of the day. She was imminently grateful that it was Saturday and that classes wouldn’t begin for a few more days. 

There weren't many students at breakfast this early on and Hermione was enjoying the relative quietness. A fluttering of wings caught her attention and she watched as a magnificent eagle owl swooped down to, surprisingly, land in front of her. 

As soon as the parcel was untied, the owl leapt into the air and disappeared through the enchanted ceiling. 

She looked at the parcel with a letter attached to it and felt her heart skip a bit. It was from her pen pal. The one she thought was from America but found out yesterday was from a boy who’d tormented her from almost the beginning of her time at Hogwarts. 

She was tempted to just incinerate whatever it was until she reminded herself that her pen pal had once given her advice about punching the “ferrety git” in the face. Why would Draco Malfoy (my pen pal) give me advice to punch Draco Malfoy (the slimy Slytherin) in the face? 

Hermione looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Whether she liked it or not, she had to find answers or the questions would drive her mad. 

She felt a twinge of happiness and sorrow as she looked upon the familiar scrawl of her friend. 

Dearest Hermione,

I know by now you’ve probably figured out some things, which have most likely led to an impressively long list of questions you have for me. To help with that endeavor, the parcel attached to this letter is a journal that is linked with its twin (mine). It’s enchanted so no one will be able to read it but yourself, unless you wish otherwise. Anything you write will appear in mine as well as any response I make will appear in yours. It’s faster than continuing our correspondence through the post and will allow you and myself more freedom to “talk” as best we can while at school. 

I know things might seem confusing at the moment, but know that when I started writing you all those years ago, it was never my intention to hurt you or anyone you cared for. I hope that in time, you’ll understand. 

Anxiously waiting your reply,  
Dillion

Hermione folded the letter and opened the parcel, revealing a beautiful leather-covered journal with intricate runes covering the whole exterior. Some of the runes she recognized and others’ understanding just danced out of her comprehension. 

She cast a few diagnostic spells before taking out a quill and ink and letting a drop fall onto the first page of the journal. After her second year it was better just to make sure. 

Her quill hovered over the page, dozens of questions flying through her brain and trying to pick which one she’d ask first. Then she remembered that this was supposed to be her friend from America, and she decided to write like she would to him. 

So... why Dillion?

•••

Well, I couldn’t use my name for obvious reasons, so I picked something that I thought was appropriate. (Hint: the name’s Irish)

•••

Ok. Well, yesterday was a bit of an information overload... I’m still unsure if I quite believe you. 

•••

I know. But everything I said was true. If you want to hear more, I’ll tell you Hermione. Regardless of everything, our correspondence means the world to me. There is not another person alive who truly knows me the way you do. The real me anyhow. 

•••

See! That’s just what I mean. You give me information, but it’s vague, and when you give me something of actual substance, it makes no sense!

And those letters meant a lot to me too...

•••

Please. Just. Remember those letters. I unfortunately had to learn at a very young age that the face I show to people might not be my actual self. 

•••

What do you mean?

•••

Dammit! It’s... like a mask! At Hogwarts, people see the exterior, that mask. When I write to you, I can be myself. I can show you myself and I let you see ME. 

•••

Alright. So everything you ever told me about yourself in your letters is true? EVERYTHING?

There was a pause so long that Hermione didn’t think he’d answer. She was surprised when he did. 

•••

Yes. 

How much sleep did you get last night? You look dreadful. 

•••

She didn’t need to look up from her spot to know he’d be sitting at the Slytherin table. She glanced anyway. As she wrote her reply, she couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face. 

You’re one to talk, sleeping beauty. 

••• 

Yes. Well. I had to arrange for everything this morning. I had hoped we’d have more time to talk on the train so I could give you this. Also I was unsure you would want to talk to me again after yesterday. 

•••

I understand. With new prefect duties, your revelations, and then the bloody bloated pink toad last evening, I couldn’t sleep a wink either. 

She had to cover her mouth as Draco let out a surprised laugh that could be heard across the hall, making numerous students turn to look at him. She realized then that she’d never heard him laugh before. She told him so with a sad smile on her face. 

•••

Don’t be sad for me. Yes. Remember, I can see your face. It’s really alright, Hermione. 

•••

And what could you possibly think you’ve done something to make me sad?

•••

I’ve done an innumerable amount of things that have made you sad. I have the letters you wrote me as proof. 

•••

I’m still trying to reconcile the fact that one of my best friends is also the bully that’s been tormenting me for the past four years. 

•••

I know Hermione. Ask me anything. Everything. I’ll answer it all. I just... can’t keep treating you like I have been. Not without you knowing the truth. 

•••

Does this mean you’ll continue to treat me as you have been all these years?

•••

When I’m in front of others? I have to. I don’t have a choice. 

•••

Everyone has a choice, Draco. 

•••

Yes. They do. Which is why I’m telling you everything, even knowing that I’ll have to continue wearing my mask. 

•••

Then why, Draco? Why now after four years?

•••

Because I’ve made my choice. I decided what kind of man I want to be. You helped me get there. And I also don’t want to see my best friend get hurt because a murdering sociopathic madman decided to come back from the near-dead to finish what he started 20 years ago. 

•••

Alright. Then why not just come out— never mind. I just realized you’re probably not in the safest of houses (at school and otherwise) to let your true intentions be known. Ok. I’ll give you some time. Just. If anything has to happen in person, please explain it to me. It’s going to be a bit confusing. 

••• 

I know it is. And I’ll be there as much as I can be for you. 

•••

Ok. It’s starting to get crowded in here. I’ll write to you throughout the day. 

•••

Ok. And Hermione?

•••

Yes?

•••

You are the only person I’ve come out to... in both sense-of-the-words. 

*****

Dillion means faithful or loyal in Irish? Really?

•••

If I would have signed anything with Draco, you would have incinerated it immediately. Plus, if I ever sent you something, everyone would assume it’s from you American pen pal.

•••

I think I’m going to pick my own name as well. Just in case I ever send you something...

•••

Any ideas?

•••

I’ll get back to you, Dillion. 

*****

In second year, did you honestly make it onto the Slytherin quidditch team?

•••

Believe it or not I did, but as a substitute. I was quite excited, my father was not. He bribed the team with new brooms so that I would be on the starting team. I would have been fine waiting another year until our seeker graduated. 

•••

Oh. That’s... nice and quite frustrating I’d imagine. 

•••

It was. Listen. I... need to apologize. I am so unbelievably sorry that it was me who introduced you to that horrible slur. I... just... a part of me wishes that Weasley’s wand had been working properly. I definitely deserved to “eat slugs” and more. 

•••

Draco... I...

•••

Hermione?

•••

Cara. 

•••

What?

•••

It’s also Irish, and the name I’ve decided to go by when others are near. 

•••

Ok...?

•••

I’m still getting used to everything. But... I think I’ll eventually get there. I accept your apology. 

•••

I really don’t deserve you as a friend. 

•••

That’s for me to decide. 

*****

Did you know about the basilisk? Or, when did you find out?

•••

Umm. Well. I actually found out a short while after I got home at the end of first year. I had already written you by then and I sent one of my house elves to see if he could stop Potter from attending Hogwarts that year. He—

•••

You sent Dobby to stop Harry?! Dobby told Harry— on my goodness!! Dobby said he’d heard all the great and wonderful things about Harry. Was that from you??

•••

Well. Technically. I guess you’d have to say.... that yes. I was the one who told Dobby about Potter. But— dammit Hermione! Stop laughing! People are going to ask you what’s so funny!

•••

Because it is, Draco! Oh don’t give me that face. Eat your dinner. 

•••

Yes, princess. 

*****

It was you. 

•••

What was me? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Granger. 

•••

After I was unpetrified, Harry mentioned that he’d found my clue trapped in my hand in the infirmary. The only thing I had in my hands before I was petrified was that mirror. Nothing else. Did you come visit me?

•••

I did. 

•••

You did which one? Both? Why are you being— does someone else know about our secret friendship?

•••

There is one person who knows about you...

•••

And?

•••

You’re not going to like it. But please remember that appearances can be deceiving. 

•••

Ok...

•••

Professor Snape. 

Hermione?

•••

I honestly have no idea how to process that. I’ll ... I’ll talk to you later. 

*****

Speaking of deceiving appearances... what was that pompous attitude during the first Care of Magical Creatures class? You seriously could have lost an arm. 

•••

Cara is very appropriate. It means friend in Irish. And you are one of the very best of friends anyone could hope to have. 

•••

Uh huh. I’d like to think so too. So... hippogriff? 

•••

I was just trying to show off a bit. That’s all. For my housemates. 

•••

But, Draco. No one but Harry was around you— oh! So you were trying to show off. 

•••

Goodnight Granger. It’s one o’clock in the morning. 

••• 

Oh all right. I’ll talk to you more later today. Goodnight Draco. 

*****

Why were you so adamant to get Buckbeak killed if you’d known you were the one actually at fault?

Draco?

•••

Give me a sec. I’m still trying to wake up here. It’s seven a.m. on a Sunday morning. 

Uh. Right. Actually, that was my father’s doing. After it happened, I’d said what was expected of me, “My father will hear about this,” And well, he actually didn’t. He heard what happened from other housemates and wanted to know why I’d not informed him. I told him because I was the one at fault, but he didn’t listen. I know for a fact that the only reason Hagrid got a hearing was because I wrote directly to the Ministry, telling them what had really happened. 

•••

You know, you should go talk to Hagrid about it. I’m sure he’d like to hear that you tried to help. 

•••

Yes. Well. Let me think about that. Besides, he’s not even here at the moment. I’ll think of crossing that bridge whenever he comes back. 

•••

Ok. Fair enough. Drink some coffee, Draco. It’ll help wake you up. Don’t give me that face!

•••

Coffee is disgusting. 

•••

Not if you add a bit of cream and some sugar. Try it. 

I said a bit of sugar, Draco! Not half the container. 

•••

I don’t like cream. Besides, nothing can be too sweet. 

•••

My teeth hurt just watching you drink that. 

•••

Then don’t watch, oh-daughter-of-dentists. Besides. We shouldn’t let anyone suspect we’re communicating with each other. 

•••

There’s only half a dozen other students here, but, alright. 

So, staying with our third year for the moment, why did Dillion suggest I punch Draco?

•••

Because inadvertently or not, the execution was my fault. Besides, with all the issues you were having with Weasel, I figured you could use an outlet. 

•••

And you thought your face was suitable?

•••

It worked didn’t it?

•••

I suppose...

•••

After that, your night got a bit more stressful if I remember correctly. Especially when a certain professor went hairy all over. 

•••

Don’t disparage Remus like that! It’s not his fault. 

•••

Remus? Oh, I’d forgotten. You were half in love with the professor that year!

•••

I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. 

•••

Yes! Something about his scars being terribly tragic yet somewhat romantic? What was it you’d said? 

•••

I didn’t say—

•••

He has the most gorgeous cerulean eyes—

•••

DROP IT NOW MALFOY!!!

And stop laughing!

•••

Ok, ok. Seriously, how has he been doing. 

•••

Better, I think. He’s been keeping Sirius company. I think he’s still coming to grips with everything that happened at the end of that year. 

•••

I can imagine. Listen. I’m heading to the library for a few hours for some research. I’ll tell you about it later so don’t try to covertly follow me. 

•••

Spoilsport. 

•••

Bye!

*****

I’m in the Great Hall. Are you coming to eat lunch?

•••

Draco, it’s almost 3 o’clock. You just barely made it to eat anything. Have you been in the library this whole time?

•••

Yes. It was important research. I’ll have to do more when it’s Hogsmeade weekend, but for now it shouldn’t take but another session in the school library. 

Where are you anyway?

•••

You’re not going to tell me what you were researching?

•••

Not yet. 

... Hermione?

•••

I’m with Harry. 

•••

Oh. Ok. Well, I probably don’t have to tell you, but don’t eat anything the Weasley twins give you. They gave something to Crabbe and Goyle earlier and had to go to the infirmary. 

•••

Oh my goodness! Are they ok?

•••

They’re perfectly fine. They just couldn’t talk around their 3-foot long tongues to try and guess at a counter-spell. 

•••

I’m dreading going to the common room now. 

•••

I thought you were in there?

•••

No we’re in the dorm room. 

•••

With Potter?

•••

Yes. 

•••

What are you doing in there? Is it just you two?

•••

Well, Harry just asked if he could put his hand up my skirt while he tries to unbutton my blouse with his teeth...

•••

WHAT!!!

•••

Calm down, boy. That’s your fantasy, not mine. Harry is like a brother to me. 

•••

Then why are you together in his room?

•••

Because he’s having issues with the rest of our house. No one believes him about You-Know-Who and he’s just found out what the Prophet has been saying about him this summer. He’s not even talking to me, just staring out the window of the tower. I’m worried about him. 

•••

If no one believes him, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots. Honestly, how do they explain the weird happenings that have been going on lately? It’s very subtle, but it’s there for anyone to see if they bother to take a look. 

•••

I’m almost tempted to show Harry this, see if it gets him to respond to something. 

•••

Best not. Don’t want him to die of shock. 

••• 

Great. He’s asking what’s so funny now. Hold on. 

He says to tell you thanks. I told him what you said about people believing him. 

•••

I don’t understand why more don’t believe him. Especially with Cedric being a witness to everything. He’s still having nightmares. 

•••

You never did explain, how do you know Cedric Diggory?

•••

We were cordial, I guess you could say, until third year. And no it’s not what you’re thinking, pervert. His dad was the one who received my letter when I wrote about the Hippogriff incident. He works at the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Cedric and I became better friends afterwards. 

•••

And with everything that happened last year?

•••

That’s a very general question for the absolute clusterfuck that was last year. 

•••

??

•••

How else was I supposed to convince you that I was American if I didn’t pop out some weird colloquialism every once in awhile?

•••

Point taken. Ok. The World Cup?

•••

I didn’t know any of that was going to happen. Since I couldn’t find my father at the time, I can only assume he was part of that little brigade. 

•••

I’m so sorry—

•••

Don’t. Just. Don’t. 

•••

Alright. Not going there. Umm, the Goblet of Fire?

•••

I was actually pretty pissed at Potter. 

•••

You thought he’d done it on purpose?

•••

Yes. At first. And well, Cedric was chosen Hogwarts champion. So naturally I tried to make Potter’s life a bit more miserable. 

•••

The Potter stinks buttons? That was you? That was quite creative actually. We couldn’t figure out how to change them. They usually ended up worse. 

•••

Yes. The bad thing was that once I’d realized he hadn’t put his name in, I was stuck wearing them the rest of the year. My own fault really. 

•••

Why did you hex me? I mean, you had always been verbally mean, but never physically. 

•••

Do you mean when I hexed you’re teeth to grow outside of Potions?

•••

Yes. 

•••

Well, I remember talking to my friend, Hermione, and how she had been asked to the Christmas ball by someone famous and a Triwizard Champion no less. She was feeling very flattered, but was a little self conscious because she had been born with overly large front teeth (her hair she knew she could tame with enough potions). Me, being her friend, knew I couldn’t shrink them down properly, so I devised a scenario in which she would have to go to a professional, Madam Pomfrey, to have them sized down. Now it might seem very Slytherin of me (and thank you), but I was also counting on my friend being just a little bit devious herself and getting them down to the size she liked. 

•••

Draco... I...

•••

You’re welcome, Hermione. 

*****

Alright, are there any other secrets I should know? Dinner is almost over and we both really need sleep if we’re to function tomorrow for class. 

•••

Not that I can think of...

•••

Really?

•••

Oh. Well. Just one more thing. 

•••

Yes?

•••

The next time you see my cousin, Nym, tell her hi from me, would you?

**— S —**

Severus suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as he glared at the two dunderheads covertly communicating in the Great Hall. He’d have to keep an eye on them as best he could, lest they let their secret be known. 

He already felt the beginnings of a headache forming...

**19 September 1995**

**—H—**

The next couple weeks flew by for Hermione. Between her fifth-year level classes, which began preparing for OWLs, and her correspondence with Draco, she had let things slip with her friendships at school. Mainly, she was ashamed to admit, her friendship with Harry. 

It hadn’t been until last night that she’d discovered what that evil witch, Umbridge, had been doing to Harry during his nightly detentions. And only then because she had grabbed his hand and he’d winced away from her. 

Luckily, today seemed a little bit brighter. She had informed Harry that she’d talk to a friend about it and see what they could come up with to stop his torture. He had reluctantly agreed and was currently eating some much-needed breakfast across from her. On a personal note, today was her sixteenth birthday. She didn't think anyone would remember, but she knew she would be receiving a little something from her parents in the morning post. 

She was in the middle of trying to ignore Ron while he spoke with his mouth full of food, again, when the owls began to swoop above their heads. 

She couldn’t help the huge grin as a tawny barn owl landed in front of her. She was more surprised when a snowy owl landed next and extended its leg toward her. 

“Harry, did you send me something?” She asked as she began untying her packages. 

“No...”

She looked to him and was slightly startled to see Hedwig in front of Harry, delivering his post. She shook her head on consternation. _Of course there is more than one snowy owl in the world._

After the owls flew off, she turned to the little parcels that had arrived for her. She grimaced as Ron spit crumbs onto her sleeve

“Woz da oca’shun?”

“It’s my birthday, Ronald,” she said as she raised an eyebrow and did her best sneering Malfoy impersonation.

It must have worked. Ron seemed to go pale then beet red as he gasped and finally swallowed down his food. 

She ignored him and began opening her gifts. The first package was from her parents. 

_Dearest Hermione,_

_It seems like only yesterday you were toddling around the flat, exploring everything you could see with those beautiful honey-brown eyes of yours. You still have those beautiful eyes, but are now growing up to be such a lovely woman. We could not be prouder to call you our daughter. Our wish for you today is that it’s the happiest of days and that every day that follows be filled with love. Happy 16th birthday baby girl._

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad_

_P.S._

_A friend told us that silver is for purity and protection. May you always be pure of heart and protected wherever life leads you._

She frowned in confusion at the post script and opened the small box that came with her parents letter. She felt her mouth drop open in wonderment at the beautiful gift. 

Her parents had gotten her a beautiful sterling silver locket with what looked like a real sapphire on the front. She turned it over and saw an inscription, 

_For those who are loved._

She clicked opened the locket as saw a picture of her parents smiling and waving back at her. She wondered who they had gotten to take the magical photo. 

She turned as she felt someone sit beside her and smiled as Ginny admired her gift. 

“It’s so beautiful, Hermione. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s my birthday.”

“But,” the redhead's brow creased in confusion, “you’re not seventeen yet.”

“And?”

“Usually things this... extravagant... come when a witch or wizard turns seventeen.”

“Oh. Well, for Muggles, they celebrate a girl becoming a woman when she turns sixteen. In some cultures, they celebrate when the girl turns fifteen.”

“A woman... but not an adult,” she asked carefully. 

“Mm hmm.”

Hermione couldn’t figure out why Ginny turned brick red all of a sudden. She waited as her friend licked her lips, looked around, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. 

“How was it?”

Hermione was utterly confused, “How was what?”

“How was it to lose your virginity?”

“What!?”

“Shhh!”

“What makes you thin—“

“Hem hem,” an obnoxiously high-pitched voice said from behind them. 

Hermione turned to see the pink-garbed toad, Umbridge. She tried and failed to hide her grimace. The woman's resemblance to a toad was unfortunate. 

"What are you two ladies up to?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

“We’re not up to anything, Professor. Ginny just came over to admire the gift my parents sent me for my birthday,” she said as she held up the locket. 

“My... that is quite... lovely, dear. And your other gift?” She said in a disparaging tone. 

Hermione grit her teeth and turned to open her other parcel, she noticed it was from Draco/Dillion. She smiled as she opened the letter, uncaring that Umbridge watched. She became furious a moment later when the woman snatched the letter out of her hands and began to read it aloud. 

“Hermione,

Happy Sweet 16th. Hope you think of me every time you wear it. 

Your friend, always,

Dillion”

“That’s mine! You had to right to grab it from me, let alone read it aloud.”

“And who is Dillion?”

“My friend.”

“I see. Well, are you going to open you gift? I’m sure it will be just _lovely_ ,” she said in a tone that suggested it would be anything but lovely. 

Resigned, for the moment, that she couldn’t get out of this, she opened the small velvet box from Dillion. 

“Oh!” she gasped. Inside was a beautiful sterling silver ring with twisting patterns that resembled the vines along her wand. There were three points where the vines ended and at each point was a flawless vibrant blue sapphire. 

She felt more than saw Umbridge reach for the ring and quickly put it on the middle finger of her right hand. She immediately felt a warm comforting sensation as the ring adjusted perfectly to her finger and activated some kind of protection spell. How she knew the spell was for protection, she did not know. 

“Oh, Hermione! That ring is just gorgeous!” Ginny gushed loudly.

The protection charm began to work as Umbridge was shoved aside when a large group of classmates rushed over to catch a glimpse of the ring. 

In all the jostling of bodies, Hermione chanced a peak at the Slytherin table and couldn’t help her smile as she saw Draco sipping from his mug, one brow raised, and looking far too pleased with himself. 

When she turned her attention back to her table, she saw Harry looking at her speculatively before glancing himself at the Slytherin table. 

_Uh oh._

**27 October 1995**

**—S—**

He sat down with a weary sigh and opened the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulled out a half-filled bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey and poured himself a generous glass. 

Severus was glad that it was the beginning of the weekend, especially this close to Halloween. He remembered a time when he used to enjoy it, a holiday where it was encouraged to pretend to be someone or something else. Now, it only brought him horrible memories of what had happened that fateful night not-so-many years ago. Severus suspected that he could live another two hundred years and it would still not lessen the pain of his best friend's murder. 

He was finally starting to relax when his office fireplace burst into green flames and the headmaster's disembodied voice echoed from the flames. 

“Professor Snape, your presence is required in my office immediately.”

Severus frowned at Dumbledore’s curt request. The whiskey in his stomach felt like lead at the thought of what could have happened to put the affable headmaster in a foul mood. 

He schooled his features as he floo’d to the headmaster's office but couldn’t help the scowl that crossed his face as he saw that _woman_ — and he was seriously doubting whether or not she actually was one— standing in the center of the office with Draco Malfoy. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He quickly glanced at Draco, noticing the blood on his sleeve. “And why is one of my snakes... bleeding?”

“It seems,” Dumbledore spoke first, “That someone has cursed young Mister Malfoy into feeling the pain inflicted upon another individual.”

He turned back to Draco and felt a slight push against his mental shields. He quickly viewed the message the boy was trying to send him— he needed to work on his legilimency— and could actually feel his blood pressure rise as a surprising amount anger raged through him. 

He didn’t trust himself to speak without cursing the witch in the room into oblivion. Instead he walked to Draco and wordlessly asked for his hand. 

Draco hissed although he was being as careful as possible. There on the back of his left hand were the bloody red gouge marks of someone being forced to write with a blood quill. 

“I must not tell lies,” he said softly. He turned when Umbridge gasped at the sight of Draco’s hand. 

“Do you know who’s being made to write with a blood quill?” He asked in the deceptively deep silky voice, the one that foretold doom to those who knew him well. 

“Now, now, Severus. I’m sure the high Inquisitor would not use a torture device, one that’s considered dark magic at that, to inflict punishment upon a student?” His affable-sounding question at odds with the serious face he bore. 

“W-well I-I was unaware... that c-certain—“

“Who?”

She clenched her jaw so tight that Severus could have sworn he heard a tooth crack. She stared mutinously at the floor without speaking or looking at anyone else in the room, she seemed to be trying to find a way out of the situation. A way out of getting caught torturing a student. After a minute of silence, Severus had enough. 

He spoke with a deceptively bewildered voice. “Are you going to be the one to inform Mr. Malfoy that his only son and heir has been scarred for life because of your apparent torture of another student?”

He was quite pleased to see the fat witch pale dramatically, her eyes bulging with fear from their sockets, completing the moniker that she indeed looked like a toad. 

“Potter,” she squeaked. Looking for a way out. 

Severus gave her a malicious smile as Dumbledore went about fetching Potter and Minerva. When he was done, he sat behind his desk, grabbed a new piece of parchment and quill and began to write. 

The office was eerily quiet with nothing but the sound of the quill scratching away, it was almost as if the room were holding its breath. That was when Severus noticed that all the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses were crowded into the center frames behind Dumbledore’s desk. Severus couldn’t remember a time when none of them were pretending to be asleep. 

A moment later, a tartan-robed Minerva walked through the door with a very hesitant Potter behind her. As soon as the boy spotted himself and Draco in the room, he seemed to relax slightly. 

Severus definitely needed more whiskey in his system. Things were, unfortunately, going to get much more interesting in his future. 

*****

The evening hadn’t been a total waste, Severus reflected, as he resumed his seat at his desk. 

Things had been tense and quiet in Dumbledore’s office until the headmaster had informed everyone present that he’d sent a missive to both Draco’s parents and Potter’s guardians, as well as a formal letter informing the Minister for Magic what his appointed professor had been doing in her spare time. 

By the time most of the story had come out of the fumbling witch's mouth, the Minister himself and two aurors came through the fireplace, shortly followed by Lucius. 

Severus felt a sharp pain in his skull at the reminder of what had happened after that. The only bright spot in the whole evening was Lucius managing to get that horrible creature fired. He was still incredulous that Fudge had insisted she remain as teacher of DADA, even after what she had done. 

It wasn’t until Lucius had shown him his son’s scarred hand, his only heir, that Fudge had started to doubt his appointment. It wasn’t until Lucius had threatened to withdraw critical funding from Fudge and the Ministry that he’d finally agreed that Umbridge was unsuitable to the post of Professor. 

She had been taken into custody and escorted to her rooms to collect her things under supervision. Throughout the whole proceedings, no one seemed to notice the actual children; whom they were actually there for. 

Severus had seen Potter staring at Draco, seemingly trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle. It was an intelligent look with a large amount of understanding behind it. It had made Severus uncomfortable, reminding him too much of Lily. 

A knock sounded at the door and he bade enter, already knowing who’d be behind it. 

“Professor.”

“Draco.”

“Who—“

“That was a very foolish thing you did.”

“Sir?”

He felt his lips lift in a small smile. “I hope it was worth it, Draco.”

“It was to me,” he said before leaving the office for the dormitory. 

Severus scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to banish his previous musings. He picked up the priceless journal that Draco had discovered, amazed by his research. 

As Severus finally went off to bed, he had a foreboding feeling that this journal was going to complicate his life in an uncomfortable manner because of these children. 

If only he didn’t actually have a heart. 

*****

**22 December 1995**

**—H—**

It was a miracle the post owl had found her on the way to the train station in Hogsmeade. The animal had dropped off the parcel and left quickly, most likely to get out of this cold. 

It was a somber Harry who greeted her in a compartment, oddly quiet without any of the Weasleys nearby. 

“Don’t worry, Harry. At least he’s still alive.”

“I know. I just can’t help but think I could’ve acted sooner if....”

“Harry, you know those are important. For you, for everyone.”

“I know,” he sighed and slouched against the seat. 

It had been a couple months, ever since he’d stopped having those horrendous detentions, that both of them had started learning Occlumency. It had been Draco’s idea and Hermione thought, a good one, especially with Harry being more often than not sleep deprived from nightmares and increasingly angry. 

He’d been able to have almost a week free from concerning dreams. Unfortunately, last night he had been awoken from one of the worst ones yet. Arthur Weasley had been attacked at the Ministry of Magic and Harry had somehow gotten a glimpse in his dream of someone leaving the area with Mr. Weasley unconscious and bleeding on the floor. 

They’d found him in time, but just barely. He was currently in St. Mungo’s in a coma. The healers weren’t sure if he would ever wake up. 

Hermione settled herself and opened the package the owl delivered. It was a very old, well used journal. A note slipped out as she opened the front cover. 

_I hope you find this illuminating to the question of your heritage. I’ve suspected for a while, but was not 100% sure until I found this. I’ve been searching for a while. Have a happy Christmas, Hermione. I’ll see you in the new year._

_-Draco_

She placed the note beside her and flipped open to the first page. There, in the first page a single name was written, the original owner of this journal. 

Brienne of Tarth.

**Spring 940 A.D.**

**—B—**

She heard a muttered curse come from the adjoining room and smiled fondly at her lover's language. She gave him a lazy smile when he appeared in the doorway. 

His eyes seemed to smolder as he looked upon her exposed body. Lingering on the dips and curves that he loved exploring so much. 

He came to her then, sat on the bed and brought her to him for a soul-scorching kiss. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped. It was like this with him every time. The barest spark would set her ablaze. 

While he continued to devour her lips, his hand trailed down her body toward that center which brought her so much pleasure, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

He found that special pearl and gently stroked, her legs falling open in invitation. He gently thrust one finger inside her wet heat, then another, making her gasp and arch into his hold. 

“Please, Sandor. I need you. _Now._ ”

“Anything for you, my love.”

He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the head of his shaft across her nether lips. Before she could urge him further, he thrust into her in one smooth motion, unstopping until he was sheathed completely. 

She thrilled at the sensation of being so filled by him, even more so we he began to move, thrusting rhythmically and hitting a spot deep inside her that had her toes curling and her back arching. 

She was lost in the sensations he brought out of her, knowing he was whispering endearments in her ear, but unable to comprehend what they meant. 

Without warning, her release came like a bolt of lightning, shocking her entire system with an unbelievable amount of pleasure. He thrust a few more moments, prolonging her exquisite pleasure before groaning out his own release. 

They lay panting for a moment before he rolled off and pulled her toward him. He kissed her gently and nuzzled her nose before placing a hand on her slightly rounded belly. 

It had been wonderful when she found out she was pregnant with his child. Although certain heartache was bound to come once the child was born, Brienne intended to enjoy every possible moment she had with Sandor. 

She stiffened as the door clicked open and a tall brawny blond strode into the room and hurriedly closed the door, shielding his eyes with one hand. 

“Brienne!” he hissed. “You need to get him out of here, now.”

“What’s the matter, Jaime?”

She noticed Sandor hurriedly begin to get dressed and pack what belongings he had with him. She felt her heart drop. 

“Father is here. He wants for the unions to happen sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how much longer we can stall.”

Jaime Lannister had been a blessing to her since they were children. Although their fathers had arranged for them to be wed since they were barely out of nappies, he was one of her dearest and most loved friends. Too bad she saw him only as a brother. It had been during a tourney fair a few years ago that he had introduced her to the fearsome warrior who would become the love of her life, The Hound, her Sandor. 

It seemed the day of reckoning had finally come. Not just for her and Jamie, but for his sister, Circe as well. She was arranged to marry Robert Baratheon in a double binding ceremony with her and Jaime. 

What was distressing for Circe was that she was very much in love with someone else. Unfortunately, that someone else was deemed inappropriate simply by the basis of her sex, being a woman. She had hoped that Circe and Morgana had found a way to be together, despite their family’s wishes. Robert seemed not to care for his future bride. He’d lost his first wife in childbirth and still mourned her loss to this day. If the weddings were going to take place soon, it seemed something had happened for them to give up on one another. 

She sighed irritably and stood proud, placing her hands on her hips and facing her best friend. She didn’t even care at the moment that she was completely nude or that she could feel Sandor’s release slicking the inside of her thighs. 

“You listen here, Jaime Lannister. We need more time.”

“I have done nothing but try to think of a way to give the _five_ of us more time,” he took his hand from his eyes and looked at her. 

She was almost tempted to laugh if it weren’t for their current situation. He was blinking owlishly at her, never having seen her without clothes. 

She heard Sandor growl beside her, but refused to stop looking at Jaime. She saw a slight blush stain his cheeks and he looked away from her. But while she’d been expecting to see embarrassment, instead she saw his scheming face. 

History told her she wouldn’t like his idea. She’d been wrong on a few occasions, but rarely. She dearly hoped she’d be wrong this time.

“You’re pregnant,” he stated. No judgment, just fact. Gods she loved him. Too bad it wasn’t romantically. 

“Yes.”

“And Sandor’s the father?”

“Of course,” he growled from beside her. He tended to growl a lot, one reason his nickname stuck all these years. 

“But if either of our fathers find out....” he started pacing, mumbling to himself. 

Jaime stopped abruptly, turned to face both of them, and began taking off his clothes. 

“What are you doing!?”

“Hush,” he waved his hand and cast a silencing charm. “It’ll work out. I promise. What we need to do is make our fathers believe this baby,” he pointed at her abdomen, “is mine.”

“And why would we do that, Jaime?” She put a hand on Sandor to keep him from charging the man. 

“Let’s face it, Brienne. If either one of them found out, they wouldn’t let you keep this baby. Regardless, we also don’t have a choice and will eventually have to wed. Your father doesn’t know about the two of you, but he’s beginning to suspect.”

“How? We’ve been careful.”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that your father sent mine a raven saying he didn’t think you’d be untouched on our wedding night.”

“Oh gods,” she sank down onto the bed. She had no idea how they could possibly salvage everything and everyone. 

“My solution will fix everything.”

“What’s that, Lannister,” Sandor spoke, he threw Brienne a worried look. 

“Our fathers are going to come up in a few moments. I’ll disrobe and lay beside Brienne. When they enter, I’ll just tell them we didn’t feel like waiting around for Circe and Roberts negotiations to be finalized. I’ll claim I’m the one who took her maidenhead, months ago. That way, they’ll think I’m the father to her child.”

“I’m missing a few steps here, Jaime. How will this help?”

“Brienne,” he took her hands and rubbed gently. “You know what they’ll do, my father especially, if they find out your child is not mine.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and fought back the tears that threatened to fall. She knew what would happen. 

“I don’t want to lose this baby,” she whispered. “It will be the only thing I have of Sandor.”

“You can’t keep it, my love.”

“Don’t—“

“He’s right, Brienne. _You_ can’t keep it, but _he_ can.”

“What?”

“When the time comes for you to have this child, we’ll go away. We’ll stay away for some time and tell everyone that the child didn’t survive the birthing.”

“So Sandor... “

“Yes. So he can raise his child — your child. It’s not ideal, I know, but it’s the best we can possibly hope for under the circumstances.”

“And you’d be alright with this?”

“Like Lannister said, it would be the only piece of you I’d get to keep near.”

“I just wish... “

“I know, love. Believe me, I know. If it weren’t for my piece of shite brother, I would have been able to bind with you myself.”

It was tradition that when a magical family had an offspring, other likewise families came together to offer blessings or gifts to the child. Sandor’s older brother, Gregor, had received many magical blessings for strength, courage, and even fierceness in battle. He’d never met an opponent he could not beat on the battlefield. Unfortunately, it made him arrogant and cruel. He would sell his services to the highest bidder and had no qualms about murdering women and children. And that had been Sandor’s downfall. 

While Gregor’s notoriety became as large as a mountain, it ultimately cost his brother his family heritage. Sandor was fifteen years younger than “the mountain” and even at a young age, he’d been recognised for his skill at killing. When the blessing ceremony had been held for Sandor, a vengeful grieving father had instead cursed him. All males born of Sandor’s line shall be like himself, cursed to be born magic-less. Born of one of the noblest of houses, cursed to be forever a part of it, but unable to take part in it. 

It broke her heart to think of all that he’d been through and she knew he secretly longed for their child to be a girl. However bleak, she was glad it had not been as bad as it could have been — she’d heard of a noble family whose first-born daughter had been cursed with death should she prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel on her sixteenth birthday. 

A caress to her cheek brought her out of her musings. She stared at her best friend whom she loved almost more than anything, her future husband, and at the man she wanted more than anything to be her husband, but knew it couldn’t be. 

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

*****

Surprisingly— at least for Brienne— the plan worked. It had been a few months since they made the decision and her life had definitely taken on a surreal twist. 

She and Jamie had been bonded in a magical ceremony while Circe and Robert had been married. Apparently, Robert had already bonded with his first wife, so Circe bonded with Morgana and joined with Robert the muggle way. 

Now she was currently reclining in bed, holding the most precious bundle in her arms. She recalled breathing through the labor pains that had started in the middle of the night just a short while ago. 

Jaime had immediately gone to get a trusted midwife then left straight afterwards to find Sandor. They both had made it back just in time. 

“May I hold her?” Jaime asked, glancing at Sandor who was receiving detailed instructions on how to care for the infant. He looked nervous. 

“Yes, Jaime. Of course.”

He gently held her in his arms before giving her an apologetic look. The next instant, Brienne saw Jaime had erected a shield around them both and began to chant. 

“What are you doing!?”

“AAHHHH!!” Sandor charged the shield, hacking away with his sword to no avail. 

There was a bright light as the chanting came to a crescendo before dissipating altogether; the light and the shield. 

Sandor quickly grabbed the infant while Midwife Prewett saw to Jaime who had collapsed after the infant was taken from him. 

Brienne was trying to make sense of everything that was happening. She could just make out the midwife scolding Jaime for doing something so foolish over the pounding of her own heart. 

“What did you do, Jaime?”

“I—" he passed out. 

“Jaime!”

“He’s alright, missus. Just depleted his core, what with that magical gift of his.”

“What gift?”

“He almost gave his life to cast a protection blessing for this young ones descendants.”

After he was finished checking the baby, Sandor spoke, “Why?”

“Because, you half-faced arse,” croaked Jaime from the floor, “I actually care what happens to the offspring of my friend and wife.”

After a few more checks to make sure everyone was alright, Jaime left the chamber so that Brienne and Sandor could say goodbye. 

It broke her heart to imagine that she would never see either of them again, but she felt more comforted in knowing that Jamie had done what he could to ensure their safety and protection. 

“What should we call her?”

“I don’t want to know, Sandor.”

“But— “

“No. If I know what’s she’s called, I’m more likely to go searching for her— any hint of her.”

“I’m going to tell you anyway.”

“Sandor, no—“

“Siobhan.”

It was perfect. He gave her a bittersweet kiss then allowed her a last goodbye to the daughter she’d never hold again. 

“Goodbye, my daughter. Siobhan. Be strong and know that you are loved.”

After they departed, she cried herself to sleep and thereafter for almost a fortnight. Jaime was always there and very attentive to whatever it was she might need. 

News spread to their families and both had sent their condolences on the loss of the child. 

Time seemed to pass in a fog for Brienne until almost a year had passed. She never forgot her daughter or her love, but she began to live her life again. Began to forge ahead with what was to come. 

As she walked into their private chambers, she noticed Jaime dozing in the bath. 

He was a handsome man and very honorable. Not once since they’d been married had he pressured her to consummate their union. He gave her the respect she deserved and had the patience to wait until she was ready. He had chosen to stay celibate for over a year because he’d been allowing her the time and space she required. 

She needed some answers from him, but she could give him this. It was time. For her, for him, for them both. 

She locked the door and cast a silencing charm around the whole chamber. She began disrobing, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to startle him. When she was done, she walked over to the bath and looked at her husband. 

He was tall — not as tall as her, but then, most people were at least a head shorter than her — lean, but with a muscular build. His skin was honeyed bronze from the sun. She trailed with her eyes the lighter golden hair that went from his navel down to nestle above his thick member. 

As she stared, she felt a zing of need course through her lower stomach; it had been a long time for her too. 

She wordlessly expanded the bath. She felt a thrill when his shocked expression turned to confusion then to lust as his eyes trailed down her body. 

She stepped into the tub and sank until just the bottoms of her breast barely touched the water. 

Jaime swallowed hard and scooted back to give her space. Brienne felt a bolt of lust as she noticed his hard cock underneath the water; felt her mouth water for a taste. 

“Brienne... “

“I’m sure, Jaime. I want this.”

It seemed that was the only thing he had been waiting for. 

He leaned forward and grabbed her hips, lifting her up so he could position his legs underneath her, then placed her on his lap, her bent knees on either side of his hips. 

She felt his erection brush against her sensitive folds and couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips. She ground down and rolled her hips, excited that he groaned in response. 

He held her hips as he started to rut against her, looking into her eyes. His brilliant cobalt eyes were blown with desire, only the smallest shade of blue could be seen around his enlarged pupils. 

Without breaking eye contact, his thumb found her pearl of pleasure and began stroking in time with his gentle rutting. 

She felt her pleasure building and building, making her wild with the need to come. Suddenly, her orgasm rushed through her, making her feel as if she were floating out of her body, but still tethered to the ground. 

As the orgasm rushed through her, she felt Jamie position himself at her entrance and push inside while her walls were still fluttering. It wasn’t painful, but felt strange to be stretched so fully. 

She was surprised by his growl before he abruptly stood up, holding her under her bottom and wrapping her legs around his waist. She felt her arousal spike even after her orgasms as Jaime walked them to the bed; she was still impaled by his thick cock. 

He kneeled on the bed and gently lowered her onto it, still keeping his engorged member buried to the hilt. 

He lifted her legs higher around his waist and kneeled with his legs under her thighs. This new positioned opened her more to his view as well as lifted her bottom. Grabbing both globes in his hands he began a gentle thrust and rolling motion with his hips. 

In this position, even the smallest thrust hit a special spot inside her that caused stars to burst behind her eyelids. She grabbed onto the bedspread with a white-knuckle grip, trying to keep herself from coming again so soon. 

“Brienne,” Jaime rasped. She looked at him and found him staring at her with a mixture of wonder, affection, and hunger in his eyes. “Come for me, Brienne.”

Her body responded to his command and her orgasm rose up quickly, her body shuddering at the onslaught of the delicious sensations running through her. 

Her orgasm turned her nipples into tight little peaks, begging for attention. Jaime seemed inclined to oblige. He wrapped his left forearm under her bottom and used his right hand to lean forward before taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. 

Each suckle made a zing of need rush through her, prolonging her orgasm. When the last of her climax had ebbed he switched to her other nipple and sucked — hard. 

It was a mixture of both pleasure and pain and felt absolutely delicious; she wanted him to do it again. As if reading her thoughts, he sucked hard again before lifting his head to look into her eyes. 

He growled, looking feral and completely lost to the sensations of their lovemaking. He leaned up slightly and pulled out almost completely before sinking back in one fluid motion. Once buried to the hilt again, he rolled his hips in a circular motion, nudging that spot deep within her. 

She grabbed onto his shoulders and whimpered, she was gloriously sensitive and every subtle movement caused her immeasurable pleasure. He seemed to snap once she touched him. He began thrusting in long forceful strokes, his muscles bunching and flexing, making scandalous grunts and groans as he kept up a rapid pace. 

She was surprised she felt herself inching towards another orgasm. She arched her back, changing the position of his thrusts and had trouble breathing as her pleasure seemed to triple. His thrusting became erratic before he groaned out her name, the feel of his hot seed entering her slick channel caused another orgasm to rip through her. 

She seemed to come back to herself after a few minutes, panting and trying to catch her breath, Jaime doing the same above her while leaning on his elbows to keep from crushing her. 

He gently pulled out his softening cock from her canal, whimpering at the oversensitivity. As she lay there completely spent and sated, Jaime went to the washbasin and soaked a small soft cloth. He came back and with more gentleness than she thought possible, starting cleaning her inner thighs of her juices and his seed. 

Afterward, he cleaned himself as well and lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms and gently stroking her back in soothing circles. She was just about dozing when he spoke. 

“That was.... amazing,” he breathed. 

“Hmm. It seemed we were both overdue.”

He laughed, “Understatement of the century.”

She felt light-hearted and hopeful. Hopeful that even though their future started with sadness they’d be able to make their future together a truly happy one. 

“Thank you, Jaime.”

“For that? Anytime, love.”

She poked him in the side. “For everything.”

“I didn’t — “

“Yes, you did. And that makes me hopeful for our future and our future children’s futures.”

“Brienne — “

“Hush now. You don’t have to explain why — “

“Stop interrupting me, woman,” he growled, causing shivers to race across her skin. “What I did... at the end... I did it for you.” 

“But — “

“For your child’s future, Brienne.”

She looked at him, unable to keep her eyes from welling with tears. This man had done so much for her, more than even she thought possible. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a gentle kiss, but hopefully the first of many. He gave her a bemused smile before tucking her back into his arms. 

Although she loved and missed Sandor and their daughter, she knew that it wouldn’t take long for her heart to belong to Jaime. He was already there as her dearest friend. Now, she’d get to enjoy the fact that she was starting to fall in love with her husband.

**10 March 1996**

**— H —**

Hermione rushed through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the owlery. She had to deliver her birthday missive to Remus and meet Harry there in secret. A part of her felt guilty for excluding Ron in their plans, but he couldn’t be trusted to keep this in confidence. There was too much bad blood between him and Draco. Plus, she knew that she had to make things convincing for him in the near future; something she wasn’t sure their friendship might survive. She tried not to let it bother her, but truth be told, she could handle no longer being friends with Ron, just as long as he actually survived what was sure to happen in the coming months, if not the coming years. 

She was breathless when she finally made it to the top of the stairs and had to rest momentarily against the wall until her breathing slowed before selecting a school owl and sending her letter. 

She felt a little embarrassed. Ever since Professor Lupin had come to teach them in their third year, Hermione had harbored a crunch on the dashing-but-scarred Professor. 

Regardless of her feelings, that was no reason she couldn’t send birthday wishes to him. 

As the owl flew off, Hermione slumped against the wall. She was a bit nervous about the meeting they were going to have, but knew it was important. It was a way for her to help in a real way in the coming conflict. 

She pulled out the Marauders Map and gave it a quick glance to make sure no one was around the Owlery, then she went in search of Harry and Draco. It took her a few minutes, but she finally spotted them edging around the busy courtyard, slowly heading in her direction; their names so close together they were almost overlapping which meant that they were under the invisibility cloak. 

She couldn’t help her smirk as she thought of Draco being so close to his crush while trying to act nonchalant. 

When they finally arrived, she cast a discreet Notice-Me-Not and Wizard-Repellent charms to keep anyone from wanting to enter the Owlery. 

Harry spoke before she could even see him. “I don’t like it, Hermione,” he whipped off the cloak. Draco tried to smooth his hair back. 

“I know, Harry, but — “

“But nothing! What if something went wrong? What if they find out what the three of us are doing? What if they hurt you or worse they — “

“Harry!” She took a breath. “Any of those things can and could possibly happen, regardless of whether I should go through with the plan or not.”

“She’s right, Harry.”

Harry round on Draco and jabbed a finger at him “Don’t you start. This whole thing is demented. If we go through with this, there’ll be too many things that could go wrong. No to mention all the secrets we’ll have to keep, from people trying to help us, no less.”

“Harry,” she said gently and took his hands in hers. “You know this is the right thing to do. A way to get a spy in that can move around more freely.”

She knew he was thinking about Professor Snape and how he’d been a double agent during the first war. Having her and Draco volunteer to go into the devil’s ranks might give them the edge they needed to hopefully get ahead of whatever Voldemort’s plans may be. He’d already arranged for several Azkaban prisoners to escape, all while placing the blame on Sirius and avoiding detection himself. 

She knew she’d won when Harry gave her a sad smile and nodded before hugging her tightly. 

“Not going to be able to do that for a while... getting my fill while I can.”

She hugged him back tightly, almost afraid to let him go. They had a plan and it had to work. She couldn’t lose someone who’d become like family to her. She'd risk everything she could to make sure he stayed alive. 

**— S —**

He didn’t want to be, but Severus was quite impressed with the well-thought-out plan that Draco and Miss Granger brought to him. It gave them both an alibi as to their friendship, and Draco’s research put to rest any doubt that Miss Granger, Hermione, was nothing less than a pureblood; descended from the very ancient house of Lannister and Tarth as well as distantly related to Helga Hufflepuff herself on her mother’s side. 

It also offered the Dark Lord a close spy to his main adversary, Harry Potter. It had seemed too good to be true, so he’d tested her Occlumency shields to see how strong she was. He was loath to admit it, even to himself, but she was an even stronger Occlumens than him. 

“Alright,” he said slowly, “I’ll bring you both in to speak with him during the Easter holidays next week. But I warn you,” he made sure to convey the seriousness of this, “It is a possibility you may not live to see the next day.”

He saw them share a knowing look before nodding in tandem, swallowing down their nervousness. Severus felt a swell of pride as he watched Draco’s determined face; his godson was certainly growing into a mature and honorable man. Severus only hoped they all lived to see it. 

**6 April 1996**

**— S —**

He walked briskly through the gates of Malfoy Manor, his black robes billowing behind him. He was to meet the Dark Lord here in preparation to receive the two young students into his presence. 

He had informed the Dark Lord of the potential ally in Hermione Granger and her secret friendship with Draco. Bellatrix had sneered and asked what use a filthy mudblood could be to the Dark Lord. 

He’d quite enjoyed informing her that Hermione Granger’s blood was probably purer than anyone else’s in the room.

After that, he’d been subjected to the Dark Lord’s special brand of invasive interrogation via Legilimency. He had been intrigued to discover that Hermione and Draco had formed a secret friendship from so early in their school days and had apparently kept up their severe animosity towards one another in public. Voldemort also seemed to... smile... somewhat, when viewing a memory of Severus eavesdropping. 

Hermione had been distraught and confiding in Draco that it was getting harder and harder to pretend being friends with Harry and Ron. 

“They don’t see me as anything other than the brains both of them are severely lacking. They treat me as if I’m their house elf while at school and if anything, both of them are beneath me.”

“It won’t be long now, Hermione. Now that the Dark Lord is returned, things will get better.”

Severus felt Voldemort begin to retreat from his mind, seeming to lazily look for anything of import. Severus thought of their backup plan and subtly projected something he wanted to hide from Voldemort. He took the bait and latched onto the falsified memory. 

It was just before the Christmas holidays, most students were busy packing and celebrating with friends in their dormitories. All except for Hermione, doing her prefect patrol. Along an empty corridor, Severus stumbled back and a bushy-haired individual ran straight into him. 

He set her to her feet. “Really, Miss Granger. You ought to be more careful.”

“Sorry Professor,” she said breathlessly. 

They both tried to move around the other, but seemed to be stuck in place. Severus looked around until he found the culprit. A sprig of enchanted mistletoe was floating above their heads. He sighed, irritated, and lifted his wand to demolished the greenery. A hand on his wrist stopped him. 

He looked back to Hermione looking up at him through her eyelashes, biting her lower with a blush spreading across her cheeks. 

“There’s a better way to get rid of that, Professor,” she whispered before going up on tiptoe and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

They were no longer trapped under the mistletoe, but Severus was glued to the spot. 

“Miss Granger,” he cleared his throat, “that was highly inappropriate.”

She nodded her head in agreement while biting her lip, not at all looking like she agreed with his assessment. 

He feels a stirring in his chest and lower. “You are underage and one of my pupils. Regardless — “

“Does that mean you wouldn’t object if I were neither of those things?”

“I — that’s hardly — “

“September.”

“What?”

“I won’t be underage come this next September.”

He could do nothing but stare in shock and confusion. She wanted to be with him? Why? She must have some ulterior motive, one he couldn’t think of right now. 

She leant up again and placed a small kiss on his cheek. “Happy Christmas, Professor,” she whispered before walking off. 

After that fake strain of memory, it was easier for Voldemort to find other such small “incidents” involving himself and Hermione; the most recent of which was the girl convincing Severus to let her meet the Dark Lord, so that she could stand by his side, always, in the coming confrontation. 

The Dark Lord finally retreated from his mind and leant back in his throne-like chair. 

“Interesting, Severus.”

It was all he could do to bow in acknowledgment without passing out or throwing up from the invasive-ness of his interrogation. It took a lot of energy and concentration to keep the Dark Lord out of his true memories, while planting the fake memories and feelings instead. 

He ended up agreeing to meet with the two students to assess for himself their potential usefulness. 

Severus stepped aside, but remained close. A few moments later, Draco and Hermione came in walking side by side. Heads held high with a haughty expression, Hermione in particular looked the part of descendant-from-an-ancient-pureblood-family. 

As they reached the Dark Lord’s presence, they gave deep bows of respect and waited. 

“Rise.” He looked from one to the other. “Severus has informed me of your potential usefulness.... as well as of your lineage,” he looked to Hermione. “What proof would you show me, child?”

His expression was one of gleeful malice, no doubt in thinking she could not produce any proof. Severus was quite pleased at the substantial — non-forged — documents they’d prepared for this eventuality. 

“If I may, my Lord?” Hermione removed her wand and handed it to Draco before reaching into her elegant robes and withdrawing a small stack of documents as well as her ancestors journal. 

She holds out the papers, but made no further move to give them to him. 

The Dark Lord looked amused. “You came prepared?”

“Yes, my Lord. Draco had told me to be prepared in the eventuality you’d ask.”

“How dare you speak with such familiarity of my nephew,” Bellatrix hissed. 

Severus had to hold back the urge to burst out laughing at the identical disdainful sneers both Draco and Hermione threw at her. The latter, wisely ignoring the deranged woman before focusing her attention back on the madman in front of her. 

“Severus, if you please?”

He went and retrieved the documents before handing them to Voldemort. He quickly scanned through the files, making surprised noises every once in a while. When he was done he motioned for Hermione to step forward. 

She did so with her eyes downcast. “Look at me,” he hissed. When she did, she gasped. 

They were both unmoving, staring straight into each other’s eyes, barely breathing. 

The minutes ticked by while everyone waited with bated breath. After what seemed like a lifetime, Voldemort released her. Draco caught her as she slumped to the side and put his arm around her waist. 

“Intriguing. It is as you’ve said, Severus. You have cultivated a cunning weapon for my use.”

“My Lord, although I am pleased with the outcome, I cannot claim to have cultivated Miss Granger. It was young Draco here who discovered and in fact did most of the research into Miss Granger’s familial past.”

“Ah... Draco. Very well done.”

He bowed in thanks while still holding Hermione. She seemed to shake herself and stood straight under her own power. Severus thought that was good, not to show any weakness. 

“I will see what use I have of you both,” he waved them off.

They bowed again before turning and leaving the room. Severus could hear the rush of the floo engaging from another room. 

“Severus. I have been meeting with irritating resistance in gaining access to something of value that I need. I want you to inform both Draco and Miss... Hermione... that I will be sending them a message soon. I expect a prompt and enlightening response.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Off with you,” he waved a negligent hand and he was dismissed. 

Severus was frustrated with the fact that the Dark Lord had still seen unfit to inform him of what was going on. It seemed he would be testing the “new recruits” on whether they’d have anything of value to offer. 

Severus sure hoped like hell that they did.

**15 June 1996**

**— H —**

Hermione was waiting in line with other students to go down for the last Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. Things had been a little hectic for the past couple of months, but she believed that they’d planned for every outcome. All that remained was putting the plan into motion; which would begin that afternoon. 

She was shortly joined by Ginny, who gave an awkward smile and mostly ignored her. Having to start leading a double life with secrets, her friendship with Ron had suffered terribly. While it helped to keep her cover with the psychotic death-team, the animosity trickled down to affect her relationship with the other Weasleys. 

Professor McGonagall came out and opened the gates. The students began filing out towards the trail that led to the nearby village. Hermione glanced around and spotted Draco who gave her a subtle nod. 

It was time. 

**— S —**

It was happening.

While most students able had decided to go into Hogsmeade, not all had gone. He could hear thunderous footsteps outside his office door as a group of students ran down the corridor, searching. 

“Harry!”

“Ginny?”

“You’ve got to help!”

“What’s wrong?”

“They’ve taken her! They’ve taken Hermione!”

“Who?”

“Death Eaters!”

“What!?”

“They said that if you didn’t meet them in the Department of Mysteries in one hour, they’d kill her.”

“Let’s go.”

The thunderous footsteps faded away as Harry went to save the day; just as planned. It was now time for his part. 

He walked over to the fireplace and threw in a dash of floo powder. “Grimmauld Place!” He stepped into the kitchen and nearby collided with with someone.

“Oomph! Wotcher, Severus.”

“Nymphadora, who else is in this house?”

“Sirius, Remus, Kingsley, Mad-eye, Charlie, and me.”

“Good. Get them all and head to the Department of Mysteries.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Harry Potter is going to get himself killed.” With that he turned and went back through the floo to his office. He walked briskly out and towards the Headmaster’s office. 

By then, the news had spread of Miss Granger’s abduction and the corridors had become congested. Not even being the feared ‘dungeon bat’ seemed to make the students move out of his way quickly enough. 

He jogged up the spiral staircase and opened the door unceremoniously. A quick glance told him Dumbledore was alone. 

“He’s gone to the Department of Mysteries. He’ll need you.”

Dumbledore wasted no time going through the floo. Severus only hoped the others would make it in time.

**— H —**

She was pressed against the front of Bellatrix, cursed knife grazing her neck. She stared into the worried eyes of Harry, trying to tell him that everything would be ok. 

“Give it to me,” Lucius coaxed from beside her. He was extending his hand for the ball of prophecy in Harry’s hand. “Give it to me and we’ll let her go.”

Harry clenched his jaw, uncertain of what to do. He nodded and held out the prophecy to Malfoy. 

They had made a valiant attempt at escape from the Hall of Prophecies. 

Unfortunately, they were now cornered in an empty room that appeared like and old Grecian amphitheater; the very center of which contained nothing but an empty archway on a small platform. 

They were completely surrounded by Death Eaters, each one holding a student hostage while Lucius Malfoy negotiated for the prophecy in Harry’s hand. 

Hermione was actually surprised that Bellatrix barely had a grip on her. She suspected it was on purpose. 

Before Lucius could pocket the prophecy in his cloak, bursts of white misty light floated into the room, dispatching the Death Eaters holding the children. 

Bellatrix went flying backward before Remus materialized beside her. Hermione felt her pulse skip as he squeezed her hand in reassurance. 

She stepped away and found cover, watching as Sirius punched Lucius in the face. She saw the blue mist that escaped the broken crystal ball and felt a twinge of dread. Her and Draco’s plan hinged on her being able to retrieve the prophecy for Voldemort. 

She edged around a large boulder and saw Bellatrix readying to send a curse towards an engaged Sirius. Bellatrix was between her and Sirius on the platform; she made a split second decision. 

She loudly sent a puncturing curse toward Bellatrix. The crazed witch turned in delighted triumph before her face morphed into confusion. From her angle, it was easy to see that Hermione didn’t even try to aim at Bellatrix. 

A pained shout reached their ears as Sirius collapsed onto the ground, clutching his side that was severely bleeding. Bellatrix turned around and looked at her in shock.

Hermione lifted her wand towards Bellatrix and said with a half smile, “Oops.”

Bellatrix started cackling before dashing off toward the exit. Harry, covered in Sirius’ blood, ran after her. Hermione was starting to follow when a bright purple curse shot towards her. She quickly threw up her strongest shield but wasn’t fast enough. Part of the curse got through and seared her left forearm. 

The pain was excruciating. Hermione was dimly aware of screaming out and writhing on the floor. A cloaked figure stepped towards her, she looked up and recognized Dolohov. He paused as he recognized her. That second of hesitation saw him blasted off his feet to fall in a crumpled heap, unmoving. 

The pain seemed to numb somewhat before she was lifted by a pair of strong arms. She was jostled as they ran, the pain in her arm causing her to see spots in her vision. She was dimly aware of entering the lifts and ascending. Instead of coming out in the main atrium, they emerged in an empty corridor. 

The person holding her wove through desks and numerous hallways, obviously knowing where he was going. Hermione leaned her head back and saw that is was Remus. 

“Remus?” Hermione croaked. 

“Hush, love. We’re almost there.”

Hermione had never seen him look so worried, but the warmth that spread through her chest at his endearment caused her to smile up at him. He looked even more worried at that. 

They finally reached an empty office with a large fireplace. Remus pinched and threw in a bit of floo powder. As they stepped onto the grate, Hermione barely heard the destination before she succumbed to the pain of her injuries and passed out into oblivion. 

**— R —**

Remus was pacing back and forth in the Hospital Wing. He felt his adrenaline surge every time Madam Pomfrey rushed back to her office for more vials of potions and poultices. 

Remus felt a mixture of helplessness and rage as he looked at Hermione’s pale form on the hospital bed. 

His wolf was restless; it needed to retaliate and tear someone’s throat out. Remus almost wished it was the full moon so he could. Almost. 

The large double doors to the Hospital Wing burst open and Snape walked through, his black robes billowing behind him — gods he was dramatic. 

Remus didn’t trust himself to acknowledge the Potions Master, so he remained silent and paced, listening. He was surprised when Severus went straight for Hermione’s bed and gently clasped her limp hand. 

A growl escaped before he could catch it. 

Snape smirked at him. “Down, boy.”

Hermione’s voice brought their attention back to her. “Severus?”

What?

“It’s alright, Hermione,” Snape said in a soothing voice. “You’re safe, now.”

She sighed and relaxed back in bed, falling asleep almost instantly. Remus saw Snape check he wounded forearm before brushing back her hair on her forehead. He then lifted her hand and gave a chaste peck to the back of her wrist. 

Remus stood stunned before being flooded with rage. He quickly stepped forward, grabbed Snape by the collar, and shoved him against the stone wall — hard. 

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” Remus growled menacingly. His wolf seemed pleased at the look of fear that crossed Snape’s features. 

“It’s none of your concern, wolf,” he hissed and tried to push Remus off. 

He growled and shoved him back. “If you’re taking advantage of one of your students it bloody well is my business, Snivellus.”

Remus felt the burning tip of a wand against his neck as Snape’s face contorted into anger at the hated nickname. 

“You will mind your own business, Lupin, or I will —“

“What in blazes is going on here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she came out of her office. 

She quickly checked on Hermione before turning her attention back to them. “Out. The both of you. I don’t need you fighting with one another and disrupting my patient’s rest.”

“It’s alright, Poppy,” Snape drawled as he extricated himself from Remus’ grasp. “I was just leaving.” With one last look at Hermione, Snape left the infirmary.

Pomfrey cleared her throat to gain his attention. “What was that about?”

“A misunderstanding.”

Remus knew it was anything but, and he was determined to find out what it was.

**30 August 1996**

**— H —**

Hermione was nervous about her second meeting with Voldemort, especially since Draco would not be accompanying her as he was already at the house. She knew she had to play her part perfectly due to the events during and immediately following the incident at the Department of Mysteries. 

Dumbledore had made a late and — if the destructive mess in the Ministry Atrium was any indication — a very dramatic entrance. As a result of that duel, Voldemort had still been present when Ministry officials had arrived at the scene.

Hermione had heard from Draco that the Dark Lord had been livid at being discovered, but more so at Lucius' ineptitude for failing to retrieve the prophecy. Draco had confirmed that his father was still in Azkaban for his failure.

Hermione was unsure of her reception in the midst of a ballroom-full of death eaters. She wondered if Bellatrix would have told anyone what she'd done at the Ministry. She'd been glad to know from Harry that although Sirius had lost enough blood to turn his lips blue, he'd survived and had made a full recovery.

Regardless, she had an ace up her sleeve. As she entered the ballroom, her eyes immediately sought out Draco and Severus. She felt comforted in knowing they were there. 

Once she was in front of Voldemort, she bowed deeply and waited for permission to rise. It seemed permission was not to be forthcoming. 

“Young Draco tells me you have news for me?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And?”

“It is concerning the prophecy, my Lord.”

Hermione heard a shuffling of feet as Death Eaters began to empty the room. When she was able to rise, she noted that only Draco, Severus, Bellatrix, and Voldemort remained. 

Voldemort leaned forward, his eyes glowing red like hot coals. “And?”

She thought back and recited the prophecy in its entirety. 

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...._

Voldemort looked pensive before aiming his wand at Severus “ _Crucio_.”

Hermione gasped in shock, watching her professor and — although he’d never acknowledge it — her friend writhe in excruciating pain in the floor. 

She couldn’t help but cast a pleading look at the evil bastad causing the pain. Voldemort seemed amused at her, but did stop his torment. 

With a hurried bow to the Dark Lord, she dashed to where Severus was just starting to pick himself off the floor.

She tried not the shudder at Voldemort’s praise. “Well done, Hermione. You have made me very pleased.”

She cast a subtle numbing spell at Severus, helping him recover from the most pressing sensations caused by the curse. Once Severus was standing upright but a bit pale, he gave her their secret signal.

She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and smoothed his hair away from his face. 

Voldemort’s eerily high-pitched laughter had her and Severus turning to face him again. “Well done Severus. It seems you have finally chosen a witch worthy of you.”

Severus bowed in response and placed Hermione’s hand in the crook of his elbow. She leaned into him. 

“Hermione, come here. Bellatrix was very put out with you for taking her kill away from her.”

Bellatrix hissed hysterically, “He was mine! Mine to kill. My blood to spill.”

“Well,” Hermione drawled, affecting boredom, “you’ll have ample opportunity in the future. It seems Sirius Black was treated in time to survive. What a difference ten more minutes would have made.”

As Bellatrix started cackling at that news. Voldemort motioned to someone and a hooded figure was dragged onto the middle of the ballroom. Hermione stared in trepidation, unsure of what was about to happen. 

The person’s hood was removed and Hermione stared into the face of former-professor Umbridge’s grimy soot-covered face. 

“What would you like to do to her, Hermione,” Voldemort murmured. 

She immediately understood, this was a test. Voldemort wanted to see which unforgivable she would use against the toad-like witch. She instantly felt sick at the idea, but her rage quickly overcome that. Rage at what she’d planned for the students at Hogwarts. Rage at what she’d done to Harry. Rage at what Draco had to do in order to finally stop the madwoman. 

She glanced to Draco’s disgusted face and lifted her wand towards Umbridge. The thing about unforgivable curses was, you had to mean them. 

“ _Crucio!_ ” Hermione growled. 

Hermione watched as the witch twisted and screamed, her body contorting into such impossible angles it was a wonder she didn’t snap in half. It kept on for a few minutes until Umbridge lost consciousness; Hermione stopped. She felt a sudden drop in the endorphins flooding through her system and realized that for those who meant it, the unforgivable curses had an almost drugging addictive effect. Hermione realized she wouldn’t be displeased if she had to cast that curse again, then immediately felt horrified at her willingness to do just that. 

She cleared her throat and bowed to the Dark Lord, not in supplication, it in thanks. Hermione felt sickened that he seemed pleased with her display. 

Voldemort beckoned her forward. “Kneel.” 

She knew what was about to happen. She knelt, holding out her left arm, palm open and facing upward. Voldemort presses his wand to her forearm, a black cooling snake seemed to erupt from its tip and sick into her flesh. As that Dark Mark began to form and brand onto her skin, pain erupted along all her nerve endings. She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming out, but the sound still escaped through her clenched teeth. 

The pain seemed to reach its peak and Hermione fought with everything she had to keep from passing out. Once it was finished, the Dark Mark stood out startlingly black against her arm, the snake protruding from the skull was slightly raised on her smooth skin. Hermione somehow found the strength to stand and bow again to the sadist in front of her. She was dimly aware or Severus taking hold of her then apparating away. She blissfully fell into oblivion. 

**— R —**

Remus had just finished eating dinner in the mostly empty kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The full moon had been two days ago, and it had taken him that long to recover enough to eat anything. 

He enjoyed the peace and quiet at the moment. Sirius had gone out with Harry for a small bit of mischief making before he had to leave for the new school term. The only other beings in the house were Kreacher, Tonks (who was taking a nap in an upstairs bedroom), and himself. 

He had just reached the first landing when he heard a struggle and a muffled “Keep her still!”

Remus rushed up the remaining stairs and burst into the room the struggle seemed to come from — Tonks’ room. 

The first thing he noticed was Snape kneeling on the bed facing the headboard, with Tonks beside him in a similar position. They seemed to be struggling with something on the bed; that was when he noticed an extra pair of legs. 

“What the hell is going on here?” he sound more bemused than angry. 

“Lupin! Quick! Get the first aid kit from my front left robe pocket.” He’d never heard Snape sound so concerned. 

“Let me,” Tonks said. “Remus, come help hold her down.”

Remus walked beside the bed and felt the blood freeze in his veins. Hermione was lying on the bed, she was thrashing back and forth, kicking with all her might, trying to get free. 

“What are you— “ the words died on his lips as he noticed the freshly branded Dark Mark on her otherwise flawless skin. 

He decided that helping her was more important that asking his questions. Remus helped hold her down as Tonks reached into Snape’s robes and removed and enlarged the Potion Master’s portable first aid kit. 

She held the box while Snape selected a myriad of different sized bottles with an array of different colors and began force-feeding them down Hermione’s throat. 

The potions started to take effect immediately and she began to calm down. She lay in a restless sleep in the middle of the bed, but at least she wasn’t thrashing about anymore. 

Remus glanced from Tonks and Snape and saw them share a concerned look. Something was going on here, and if Remus had learned anything from what happened in the previous war, secrets were not only ill-advised, but could also be deadly. 

“You two are going to explain just what the hell is going on, and you’re going to do it now!” he hissed angrily. 

Remus was surprised at the angry and defiant look Tonks threw at him. She was completely shocked when Snape agreed. “On one condition. You and I are making an Unbreakable Vow, wolf.”

*****

Remus sat slumped in a chair beside the bed Hermione was currently resting on. He couldn’t believe everything that had happened in the past hour. 

He had made an Unbreakable Vow with Severus Snape. Hermione was from an ancient pureblood family and was currently working undercover — with Draco Malfoy of all people. Hermione had the Dark Mark. Harry knew what was happening and was actually a very accomplished Occlumens. Hermione and Snape had a secret — but false — affair; the reason being so Tonks could go undercover herself in Hermione’s stead.

And if that wasn’t enough information to give Remus a migraine, Snape and Tonks seemed to be having a secret — but very real — affair of their own. Sometimes Remus cursed his advanced senses (especially hearing) in circumstances like this. He didn’t particularly want to hear how Tonks was going to make Severus ‘feel better.’

A shuffling brought his attention to the witch on the bed. She grimaced and squinted her eyes open. Holding herself as still as possible, she looked at her surroundings. 

“Remus?” her voice cracked. 

“Shh, Hermione,” he gave her some water. “You’ve been through an ordeal.” Her eyes widened and she tried to hide her left forearm. 

He gently tugged her arm back out and dabbed a dittany-infused salve on her arm. 

Her arm relaxed under his ministrations and she leaned back, resting against the pillows. While her body physically needed rest, her eyes pierced him with a keen intelligence that made his pulse quicken. 

“How do you...?”

“Severus.” She raised her eyebrows at his use of the potions master’s given name. “I have a bloody Unbreakable Vow with the man. I might as well start using his first name.”

She was pensive while Remus finished his treatment and put away all the medicinal supplies. He was startled when she spoke. 

“I know what I’m doing, is the right thing. Though others won’t see it that way.” She lifted her arm. “They’ll just see this brand and the monster it represents.”

“Hermione—“

“I don’t regret it. Not one single thing. And I know there will be things later on that might cause some regret, but doing this, it’s just one way that I’m able to help. And I’m glad to do it.”

“Except?” Remus prompted. 

She smiled at him. “Except there are things that I haven’t done that I _will_ regret if I don’t do them.”

She startled Remus even more by leaning forward, grabbing him by the back of his neck with her right arm, and pulled him toward her until her lips were pressed against his. 

Remus froze. His brain screamed at him that this was wrong, she was still a minor, regardless of her birthday being in two weeks. However, the rest of his body begged him to press closer. Plunder her mouth and stroke her body until she called out her pleasure in his arms. She smelled like chocolate-dipped strawberries. Remus had to fight the urge to sink to her vee and have a taste. To see if she tasted there how she smelt. 

Remus was shaking as he pulled back from the chaste kiss. A kiss that seemed to scorch his soul, branding her there. 

“Hermione—“

“Remus. I want you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“Remus.” He gazed into her eyes. Saw the truth in them. He didn’t know what to do. 

“You’re so young...”

She chuckled. “Not that much younger than you.”

“Twenty years.”

“And for a witch or wizard the difference would be unimportant. Our average lifespans are about 180 years, Remus.”

“But. My condition...”

“Remus,” she stroked his cheek. “The only time you could ever infect me would be during the full moon. You could bite me right now, and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

Her mention of his biting her caused his wolf to howl in agreement of this plan. He felt his mouth water with the thought of sinking his teeth into her, not to cause pain, but to mark. Make her his in every way possible and bring her to unimaginable heights of pleasure. Remus was sure he could live for that reason alone. 

He leaned forward and gently kissed her. She sighed in pleasure and tried to get closer. She pulled back with a hiss and clutched her still-healing left arm, glaring at the image.

“This doesn’t—“

“Hermione,” he interrupted. He felt his wolf come to the surface and knew she was looking into his lupine amber-colored eyes. “This,” he gestured between them, “will last for however long you wish it to. You’re ours. But I won’t force me to be yours. That is and will always be your choice.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding. He had just informed her that she was his true mate. Something he had found to be a great inconvenience during his tenure at Hogwarts. She had to understand that he would never ask her to go. If she ever wanted out of this, she would have to be the one to end it. 

Remus silently prayed that day would never come. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive it. 

**30 March 1997**

**— H —**

Since she’d been marked as a Death Eater at the end of August, the months had flown by in a whirlwind studies, meetings for both the Order and the Dark Lord, helping Draco maintain an inconspicuous profile, and doing extensive research into the memories Dumbledore had been showing Harry since the beginning of the school year. 

Hermione was exhausted and knew that she would have burned out long before now if it weren’t for a few close friends and Remus. 

She was dreading the coming night’s progress report to the Dark Lord, mostly because of what she’d been able to uncover about one of the memories. She unfortunately now knew what the hell a Horcrux was and how to make one. 

After Harry had told her of the altered memory he’d been shown, Hermione had jumped into instant research to try and uncover what it was. Remus had helped her locate books from the Black household that held the answers; in Regulus’s old bedroom. 

As those dark books had been dog-eared on the pages consisting only of information on Horcruxes, Hermione assumed that at least one actual Death Eater knew of what the Dark Lord had done.

Based on the descriptions in those tomes, Hermione came to the conclusion that Tom Riddle’s diary Harry had dealt with in second year was, in fact, a Horcrux. Harry was still working on getting the full-untampered-with memory from Professor Slughorn. Hemione could only assume it was to find out how many Horcruxes the Dark Lord had made.

Hermione had a plan that would hopefully reveal just how many there were; if she didn’t die in the process. Tonks had come up with a possible solution to that by providing Hermione with a memory. It was safely tucked away in the most fortified Occlumency shields that Hermione could showcase — as if the barricade it was locked behind were bright flashing neon colors. 

Hermoine prayed this plan worked. She entered the now-familiar ballroom and knelt at the Dark Lord’s feet, rising and giving him a brief report of what was happening at Hogwarts and of Draco’s advancement with allowing the Death Eaters entrance onto the school grounds.

As was customary once she completed her report, Voldemort briefly glanced into her mind using legilimency before dismissing her. He paused and followed the trail to the memory that Hermione had sealed.

“It seems you’re hiding something from me,” Voldemort murmured in his eerily high-pitched voice.

Hermione affected a slightly panicked voice. “Please, my lord, that it nothing of import.”

“I shall be the judge of that.” 

Hermione pretended to struggle to block out his intrusion before letting her walls come down.

The memory showed Hermione looking into a mirror, completely naked. She was kneeling up on a bed with her right hand reaching behind her and her left hand — showcasing her dark Mark — gripping the back of Severus’ neck while he suckled on her neck. Through the reflection in the mirror, Severus’ hard penis could be seen gently thrusting upwards, in and out of Hermione’s tight sheath; the juices of their lovemaking causing a wet slick sound to be heard in the otherwise quiet room. Severus placed his knees to the inside of Hermione’s and spread them, making Hermione open more for the mirror, her pink lips glistening as her pleasure increased. Severus nipped at the side of Hermione’s neck and pulled her head back by pulling on her hair; a ragged whimper escaped her throat.

“Come for me, love,” Seveurs growled in her ear while his hand reached down to where they were joined. It took two strokes of his fingers against her clitoris until she was screaming out her pleasure, her inner walls gripping his thrusting cock until his orgasm overtook him and he came inside her. They knelt there, panting as the last of their release left them, their foreheads touching as they leaned against one another.

Voldemort slowly withdrew from Hermione’s mind, likely to see if there was more sordid images to see. He gave her a leering smile. “That will be all, Hermione.”

With a forced smile and a shaky bow, she left the Malfoy ballroom and headed to the nearest floo. She stumbled into the kitchen of Gimmauld place and promptly threw up in the nearest cooking pot — she’d buy a replacement.

She heard a disgruntled voice in the corner. “Oh, my mistress would be horrified. A mudblood disgracing her kitchen in such a foul—”

“That’s enough Kreacher,” Hermione gasped. She threw the little loathsome house elf a glare and surreptitiously showed him her Dark Mark.

The decrepit house elf’s eyes widened before a look of respect crossed his face. “Oh! Mistress, yous is being a proper witch. You—”

“Kreacher, enough.”

Hermione heard a sound of approaching footsteps and hid her Dark Mark again. Remus walked through the doorway, his look of happiness at seeing her was replaced with one of concern when he saw her hunched over a cooking pot.

Kreacher scowled at Remus before turning back to Hermione. “If Mistress be needing anything, Kreacher will gets it for her,” then vanished from the room.

Remus caught her as he knees finally gave out. “Hermione what’s wrong?”

“We need to have a meeting. With you, Tonks, Severus, and Harry. But first we need Tonks, immediately.”

“Someone call my name?” the bright pink-haired witch asked as she came into the kitchen.

“Bloody hell, Tonks,” groaned Hermione. “Get this fucking thing out of my head before I try to Obliviate myself.”

*****

Hermione had some time before everyone else showed up and drew in her notebook sketches of what she’d seen when she’d entered Voldemort’s mind while he was distracted by Tonks — disguised as Hermione — and Severus having sex. The only solace Hermione got from that memory was the fact that Severus’s eyes had been shut the entire time Tonks had looked like Hermione.

Now, after briefing everyone of what she’d seen, they sat in silence, each trying to devise a plan. Hermione looked down at the sketches she’d made earlier.

“We know the diary has been destroyed,” she said thinking out loud.

“And the ring,” Severus said. “It was what cursed Dumbledore’s hand.”

“Was it curable?” Remus asked.

“No. I was only able to slow the curse down, but in a few months, it will have done its job.”

While everyone sat in silence at that, Hermione crossed out the diary and the ring from the images. “That leaves the snake Nagini, the locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, and the Dark Lord himself.”

“I know where to find the diadem,” Harry said shocked.

“What?”

“Where?”

“How?”

“Remember the book, Hermione? The one from potions class?” he glanced at Severus.

Understanding seemed to cross the Potions Master’s face as he sighed. “I’d wondered how you’d cursed another student, but I was unable to find my old textbook.”

It had been horrible. Harry and Draco had become closer, and were playacting in Myrtle’s toilet. Draco had urged Harry to use the Sectumsempra spell — _how dangerous could a spell be, invented by another sixth year decades ago?_ — and had willingly stood still as Harry flung the curse at him. It had been a miracle that Professor Snape had been nearby and able to perform the counter-curse. Harry had run off, terrified that he’d killed his friend and determined to get rid of the book.

“That’s where I put it,” Harry was saying, “I hid it in the Room of Requirement. I put the book in an old cabinet and placed a bust of a weird-looking wizard with a white wig and a tiara on top of the cabinet. The tiara looked exactly like the picture Hermione drew of Ravenclaw’s diadem.”

Hermione felt excitement surge through her veins. “It seems we may be closer that we originally thought.”

Remus called for tea as they continued to speculate where the other Horcruxes might be hidden. Kreacher came in and set the tea tray down and began serving tea for everyone. Everyone mostly ignored him until he dropped the delicate china tea pot onto the floor, shattering shards of porcelain and hot tea everywhere.

“Kreacher,” Remus growled.

The little elf pointed at the sketched pictures and exclaimed in a shocked whisper. “Master Regulus’s locket.”

After the chaotic outburst at Kreacher’s pronouncement, they acquired the full story of how Regulus had replaced his replica locket with the original, and had given his house elf instructions to destroy it; giving his life so his elf could save himself. Through bouts of tearful confessions, they finally received the cursed locket and Hermione had given Kreacher her word that it would be destroyed.

“Well,” Tonks said as everyone was getting ready to retire for the night. “It seems all we’ve got to do is find the cup.”

Hermione remembered something she’d heard in passing at one of the Death Eater assemblies between Lucius and Bellatrix. “And I think I know where we might be able to find it.”

**31 October 1997**

**— H —**

They’d actually done it. Hermione could hardly believe they’d been able to find all the Horcruxes and collect them in one place to be destroyed together. After that fateful meeting at the end of March, Hermione and Severus had hatched a plan to allow her access to the Lestrange vaults to search for the cup. She’d been able to gain access to the vault in early August, had found the cup, and had replaced it with a replica of her own; same as Regulus had done.

Harry had eventually gotten the true memory from Slughorn and had later gone Horcrux hunting with Dumbledore. After crossing the inferi-infested waters, Harry had stopped Dumbledore from drinking the dubious potion by telling the headmaster that he’d already secured the locket horcrux.

Harry had been forced to tell the Headmaster that they had, in fact, been able to collect a large number of Horcruxes by working with a small trusted team. Dumbledore had been surprised that Harry had shared such information with others. Harry had argued that keeping secrets tended to lead to more deaths.

Dumbledore had died in late June, finally succumbing to the curse from putting on the ring. Voldemort had seized the opportunity while the wizarding world had been in mourning and had staged a coup to take over the ministry.

Harry and most of the Order had commandeered Hogwarts as a base of operations. With the terror and deaths Voldemort and his followers had been causing, parents had been reluctant to send their children off to the school a psychotic madman seemed to be obsessed with. As a result, Order members and people needing sanctuary and safety from Death Eaters, found themselves currently living on the school’s grounds. 

Apparently before his death, Dumbledore had place a powerful protection spell on the castle that didn’t allow any — with the exception of Draco, Hermione, and Severus — Death Eaters to even step on the school grounds without dying a horrible death.

The previous headmaster had left specific instructions that the protective spell would only last until the last day of October as well as a memory for Harry to view privately in the pensieve the day before. News had somehow gotten out about the protective deadline, and the whole of Hogwarts grounds were surrounded by a multitude of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord’s followers.

The sun was beginning to rise and Hermione couldn’t help but think that the day was going to get worse, much worse, before it got better.

A commotion could be heard from the main courtyard outside the Great Hall. Hermione rushed through the school doors to stop dead at the sight that greeted her. Voldemort was standing there, surrounded by his most loyal and high-ranking Death Eaters. To his left, a chained and bruised Hagrid was holding a lifeless bundle in his arms, Harry.

An anguished cry rent the air as Sirius tried to charge Voldemort, his grief inconsolable at the death of his godson. He was barely held back by Remus and crumpled to the floor as Severus stunned him.

Remus gave Hermione a look she could not interpret, as if he’d been expecting this. He turned and rushed back into the castle.

Hermione looked desperately for a friendly familiar face, and found Draco. He was kneeling on the floor, stunned and anguished as he looked at Harry’s lifeless body. 

“You see? Harry Potter is dead! He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!” Voldemort addressed the multitude of Hogwarts’ inhabitants. “But I am a merciful Lord. I will spare all those who come and join me willingly.”

No one moved or dared to breathe.

Voldermort seemed to open his mouth to say something more, but gasped and clutched at his chest. A multitude of horrific wailings could be heard from deep inside the castle, of many creatures in the midst of their death-throes. Hermione noticed Voldemort’s pale skin become less glossy and more dull, taking on a grayish hue, almost like a corpse. Hermione suddenly realized that Remus must have gone inside to destroy the Horcruxes — leaving Nagini the only one left.

Hermione touched the hidden sheath she had on her left forearm. Made of the thickest dragonhide leather available, it concealed to most dangerous weapon she could carry — a basilisk fang.

When Voldemort seemed to collect himself and brushed off Bellatrix, Hermione stood tall and walked forward. The people behind her gasped in shock, she even heard Neville tell her to come back.

She stood before the Dark Lord and bowed formally for everyone to see.

“Ah, Hermione. One of my most loyal followers. Come, dear, and join your brothers.”

Hermione stood and came behind Voldemort’s right shoulder, facing the assembled mass of Hogwarts. She ignored the looks of confusion, betrayal, and loathing directed at her and measured her breathing as she sensed Nagini come nearer to her. The snake came between her and her master and stopped. Nagini’s head was just past Hermione.

While Voldemort began to speak again, Hermione carefully took out her basilisk fang and took a deep breath. She felt her nerves alight as if on fire as adrenaline surged through her body. She bent her knees leaning forward and plunged the fang as hard as she could against the head of the enormous snake. The snake began to convulse as an ear-splitting screech could be heard coming for the reptile.

Voldemort let out a bellow of rage as he aimed his wand at Hermione. She clenched her jaw and faced the mass-murderer, knowing it was going to be her last moments on this earth.

Draco’s voice cut through surprised confusion of everyone. “Harry! Here, catch!”

Harry had dropped from Hagrid’s arms and was making his way towards the Hogwarts crowd when Draco called out and threw him a wand, Draco’s wand. Harry ran forward and grabbed the wand from the air, turning and facing Voldemort.

“There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me now, Riddle. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good.”

Voldemort bellowed in rage as he fired a killing curse at Harry, who blocked with his favored _Expelliarmus_. As the two faced-off, the rest of the occupants of the courtyard started engaging one another in battle.

“You’re mine you little bitch!” Bellatrix screeched at Hermione. She barely had enough time to throw up a shield charm before Bellatrix’s hex could hit her.

There was chaos everywhere as witch and wizard battled each other, Light versus Dark. Bellatrix managed to get passed Hermione’s defences with a hex that caused her to feel as though she was being electrocuted. Bellatrix leaning over her prone form and kicked her wand away. She grabbed her favored cursed knife and held it to Hermione’s neck.

“This time I’m going to—”

Hermione watched as Bellatrix was flung to the side as spots danced across her vision from the pain. She was dimly aware of Bellatrix screaming out before suddenly falling silent. A moment later she was in the arms or Remus and his calming smell; he always smelled like hot chocolate. With that comforting thought, Hermione succumbed to oblivion.

**— R —**

The battle had begun winding down with most of the death eaters in custody or dead. Remus refused to feel remorse for killing that bitch Bellatrix. After he’d done so, Voldemort had been distracted enough for Harry to finally finish him off.

He lifted Hermione into his arms and made his way to the Hospital Wing. He found an empty bed in the fast-filling infirmary and laid his witch down. Poppy rushed over, diagnosed her quickly, and gently forced a tonic down Hermione’s throat.

“She’ll be sore for a few days, but she’ll have no lasting damage.” She then rushed off to see to another waiting patient.

Remus sat in a chair beside her bed and held her hand. The doors burst open causing a few people to point their wands at the intruder, only to quickly lower them when they realized it was Harry Potter.

“Where is he?” Harry asked desperately. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Who—?” 

“Harry?” Draco asked from behind Kingsley who was detaining the blond.

“Draco!” Harry rushed over, pushed Kingsley aside and swept Draco into his arms. He gave him a fierce hug which Draco eagerly returned.

Kingsley’s retort was cut short as Harry pulled back, yelled at Draco to never do anything so bloody stupid again, and kissed him passionately, holding the other man close to him as if afraid he might disappear.

“Kingsley,” Tonks interrupted from behind. “There are a few things you should probably be made aware of.” 

Remus couldn’t help but smile as he watched Kingsley's eyes widen at the slightly rounded baby bump Tonks was sporting.

It seemed the worst was finally over, for good this time, and things could finally start healing. Remus just had to make sure he was with his love for as long as he could manage.

**Epilogue**

**19 December 2010**

**— H —**

Hermione moaned as his warm hand trailed a path down her abdomen and started to gently part the folds of her sex. She arched her back as his other hand tweaked her nipple, causing her to grind her bottom against the hard length pressed there. He nipped at her neck and started trailing delicious little kisses along her back. He eased a finger into her and she moaned in response. Even after all these years, Remus could set her body aflame with just one look.

She loved making love with her husband and mate, but she was in no mood for his teasing this morning. She grabbed both his wrists, twisted them away from her body, pivoted and knelt up so that she was straddling his hips. He grinned wolfishly up at her and knew that that wolf was enjoying the dominant side that she sometimes brought out in their bed-play. 

His penis was pressed against his stomach, the warmth of it making her long to bury him inside her to the hilt. Hermione smiled a little wolfishly herself and began rocking back and forth on his erection, the juices from her arousal smoothing her movements until it looked like Remus wasn’t enjoying her teasing. She lifted up on her knees, positioned Remus, and sank down onto his aching cock in one smooth thrust. They groaned at the pleasure of feeling joined.

Hermione began lifting and dropping onto him, building up her speed and momentum. He growled low in his throat and held her to him, keeping her from moving.

“Remus?”

“I’m sorry… it’s just… it’s too close.”

Hermione understood immediately that it was too close to the full moon for him to gentle. Hermione felt her inner muscles clench at the thought.

“Then take me, Remus. I’m yours.”

He lifted her off him and positioned them so she was on all fours on the bed, Remus right behind her. He nudged her knees apart, opening her. He grabbed her hair at the back of her neck and pushed her head down until she was pinned to the bed. As he sank into her with his large penis, he growled out “ _Mine!”_ Before beginning a rough claiming. 

Hermione almost immediately began to see stars. Whenever they fucked like this, Remus always seemed to hit that special spot inside her that had her screaming out her orgasm. As she was coming down from her blissful high, Remus bit where her neck met her shoulder and thrust harder into her. She was surprised by the almost immediate second orgasm that tore through her and barely heard Remus growl-out his own release. 

They lay panting beside each other, shivers running through Hermione at the intensity of her multiple orgasms. Remus leaned closer and began snuggling her, rubbing her body in places she was likely to be sore.

The sound of the floo engaging in the next room brought the couple out of their post-coital daze.

“Hermione? Remus?” Harry could be heard from the grate. “It’s almost time to go to King’s Cross. Draco was wondering if you planned on retrieving your other children at any time in the future?”

Hermione giggled at Remus’ pout. “We’ll be right there Harry. Just give us a moment.” They quickly cleaned themselves and got dressed before flooing over to the Potter’s residence.

Hermione hugged her twin boys Romulus and Regulus before greeting Draco and Harry and their daughter, Lily. Once greetings were done, they all headed to King’s Cross to pick up their oldest children for the Christmas Holiday. They spied Severus and Tonks waiting on the platform as well, Tonks trying to navigate Severus under some enchanted mistletoe to have an excuse of kissing him in a public setting.

“Scorpius and Jamie haven’t written a lot since they started their first year. Do you think they got in too much trouble?” Lily asked slyly.

Severus snorted. “According to Steven, those two and Natalie might put the Weasley twins to shame. I’m sure there’s a reason they all haven’t written consistently.”

“Well, at least we know it can’t have been too bad if we haven’t heard from Headmistress McGonagall.” Remus suggested.

Hermione was quite thrilled that her son had made such wonderful friends and that he was able to attend Hogwarts. After the war and everything had been settled, Hermione had not wanted to wait to be together with Remus. They had married a few weeks into the new year and become pregnant a month afterwards. Draco had looked dashing as _her_ best man — he refused to be acknowledged as her maid of honor — and she had stood up with Draco when he and Harry had married a few weeks later.

Tonks had gone into labor with little Steven during Hermione and Remus’ wedding and most of the wedding party had rushed to St. Mungo’s in their wedding finery to witness a moment no one thought would ever happen — Severus become a father. Severus had come to his senses with barely a second to spare and had found an officiant at the hospital to marry them the moment before Tonks began to push — Hermione and Draco had been witness to both occasions. 

The whistle of the train drew her attention away from her musings as she was able to spy Jamie smiling at her from the carriage window.

As Remus went to help the children with their trunks, Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug. She leaned against his shoulder as she sighed contentedly.

  
It had been almost a thousand years since a male from the Clegane and Tarth line of the family had been able to perform magic. Jamie Lannister had almost completely depleted his magical core performing a birthing blessing to counter what had been done to “The Hound.” It had taken those thousand years for the circumstances to finally come to pass — for a descendant born of the line of Clegane and Tarth to willingly and unforcefully work and aid alongside a descendant born of the line of Lannister and Tarth.

Hermione and Draco working alongside had ended the familial curse. Draco liked to joke that it was a Christmas miracle that broke the curse since Jamie had been born on Christmas Day.

Hermione liked to believe it was the love they had for one another that caused their miracle.

**THE END**


End file.
